


A Storm in April

by notjustmom



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst and Fluff, Established Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, M/M, Pandemic - Freeform, Retirement, Sussex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:48:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23827126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notjustmom/pseuds/notjustmom
Summary: Sherlock and John have retired to Sussex years before a pandemic makes headlines.One cloudy spring morning, Sherlock wakes up to a note that doesn't surprise him in the least.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Comments: 30
Kudos: 92
Collections: Isolated Johnlock Collection





	A Storm in April

It was a little after twelve on a Sunday. Spring was a little slow in coming this year, he noted as he opened the door and took in his first deep breath all day.

John.

At least he had left him a note. He hadn't been that considerate a decade earlier. At least back then, he had human enemies to fight, something he could outwit, and defeat in the end.

_"Sherlock -_

_You know I need to do this. No, I'm not an expert in infectious disease, but my shots are all up to date, there is no reason for me to stay on the sidelines -_

_That's a lie._

_There is you, my - god, what are you now to me? My other half, my better, wiser, funnier half. We've had years, years I never thought we would. I think you understand. You of all people - I think you understood last night, didn't you? You hoped to be wrong for once, but you knew once I saw the headlines -_

Sherlock squinted up at the sky as he felt the first raindrops. This storm had been brewing for days now, more of a summer storm, he considered, the dark clouds looked so heavy -

"Gladstone!" Sherlock called out, then knelt down as the dog they had found bounded towards him. No. He had found them, the day after they had moved into the cottage, five years ago, now. "Come on, boy, it's about to pour." A rumble of thunder and a flash of lightning followed as the screen door banged shut, and he spent a brief moment considering the state of the universe, before he sighed and murmured, "We need a fire, that's what we need, right?"

He hadn't wanted a dog at first. Gladstone had been John's from the moment he had arrived on their stoop, thin, nearly frozen and bedraggled - a mixed breed, Sherlock still wasn't sure what he was, to this day. John had made sure he had no owner, taken him to the village vet, walked him, fed him - and then there was the week when John was bedridden with "just a cold, I'll be fine." Of course the cold soon became pneumonia, and Sherlock had taken over taking care of Gladstone and everything else. His breath caught and he shook his head, reminding himself that it had been nearly four years ago since that time. John had fully recovered, but in that time, Sherlock had remembered that brief period in his life, when as a child, he had such a companion, one who demanded little, yet loved him unconditionally, and quickly learned to appreciate - no, had learned to love the scruffy, intelligent animal who had - 

He blinked as the fire roared to life and he warmed his hands, then turned to look at Gladstone to find him on his rug, already fast asleep. 

_"...saw the headlines..."_

Yes, he had seen the look in John's eyes last night. Perhaps he had that same look the night before he had been forced to jump- but no, they hadn't been what they were now. And yet. John had waited two years for him, he had understood, and had forgiven him. When he had recovered enough to speak upon his return, his first words had been, "Just a magic trick, hmm? Good one."

And then - Sherlock slowly got to his feet, sighing as he heard his knees crack, then dropped into his chair, stretched out his legs, and closed his eyes. That first kiss, uncertain, had turned demanding, and as he held John's face in his trembling hands for the first time, he studied the deepest blue eyes he had ever seen, and noted the gold flecks in them. "You have stardust in your eyes, John, how is it that I'd never noticed before?" He had known, but he hadn't truly understood why he had left until that moment. Yes, if asked, he could list a dozen reasons why, but he had left and managed to survive for just one reason.

He opened his eyes and jumped out of his chair as a blast of wind carried in the unmistakable scent of home.

John.

"I'm sorry."

Sherlock rubbed his eyes, looked over at the now dying embers in the fireplace, and wondered just how long he had slept. Then he studied the shivering, rain drenched figure who stood just inside the kitchen door. "John?"

"What's left of me." He chattered out, then managed to place a milk crate of supplies on the kitchen table. "I'm so sorry. I got halfway to London, and remembered something I had forgotten -"

"Remembered something you had forgotten. How do you -?" Sherlock asked in a broken voice, then shook his head as he began to move into the kitchen.

"I know it's illogical. Just -"

"Stop." Sherlock knelt in front of him, untied and removed his soaked through trainers, then helped him out of his lightweight jacket, and grabbed a clean towel from the pantry shelf. He rubbed John's hair until it was almost dry, then hung the towel on the back of a chair and walked over to the kitchen counter to plug in the kettle for tea.

"Sherlock. Please? Let me try to explain."

"No explanation needed, John. You believed you were needed elsewhere, more than you are needed here." He nodded as he got out the mugs and a plate for biscuits. "And if I were able to see the situation with an objective eye, without sentiment, I would probably agree with you. The fact is, however, I can't think of you objectively, never have been able to." He shook his head as he heard John move towards him. "Don't. Let me finish."

John froze, and Sherlock turned to face him finally. "Since I read your letter this morning-" he nodded at the single sheet of paper on the kitchen table, "I've had time to think about what it must - what it might've been like for you when I left. I'm quite aware of the differences involved, and we have never talked about it. I never knew why really, why we didn't, we just continued on, not as we had before I left - but -"

The kettle whistled and Sherlock unplugged it, then turned to face John again. "You never, not once, have you ever told me what it was like, you never held it against me. Today, I -" He shrugged and his voice dropped to a whisper, "it's like that storm outside, the weather, nature itself feels out of tune. I am quite aware, have been, since the day I returned, that I am quite out of tune without you. I know it is selfish of me -"

"No. Sherlock." John looked down and sighed at the puddle he was standing in. "I am the selfish one, I wanted to be useful, it's not that I miss the chaos, okay, maybe it's partly that, the adrenaline rush of it all?" He moved across the kitchen to the cupboards and pulled out the teapot, the last packet of chocolate biscuits and the tea bags and went about making tea. Sherlock was frozen where he stood, and all he could do was watch John, until he noticed the tremor in his left hand. 

"John."

"What I remembered was how it felt the first time I kissed you when you came back. I remembered how you held my face in your hands, and looked into my eyes. I got off at the next station, it took the bus forever to get back to my car, and then I knew we needed, we would need supplies - there's more in the car - dog food, and flour and yeast -"

Sherlock reached out and cradling John's face in his hands kissed him gently, then sighed as John's hands were in his hair and it was all he could do not to slip to the floor in relief. After a moment he asked quietly, "Are you sure you want to quarantine with me, you do know I have some dreadful habits -"

"I think I can be persuaded to overlook most of them," John whispered as he kissed him once more and leaned against him. "But right now -"

"Tea and a hot bath?"

"Please."

"I think that can be arranged."


End file.
